


The One Where No One Misses Christmas

by RurouniHime



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Babysitting, Children, Christmas, Established Relationship, M/M, Outing, Superhusbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 07:00:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RurouniHime/pseuds/RurouniHime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>See title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where No One Misses Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coffeejunkii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeejunkii/gifts).



> **Warning:** I know it says General Audiences up there, but there is ONE swear word in here. Jeez, Tony.
> 
> The sixth of thirteen ficlets I wrote for various people during a gift exchange this year. The goal was 500 words for everyone (and believe you me, that was HARD. I am Bad at writing Short Things). Everyone got a choice of my fandoms/pairings. When this one was prompted, I squeed.
> 
> This one is for coffeejunkii, one of my oldest friends in fandom. ^_^ A VERY Merry Christmas to you, darling!

“So he sleeps at eight, eats whenever— seriously, he’s like Thor, anything he wants. Don’t let him get hold of your shield, he has an aptitude for weapons.”

Phil checks his watch. “Clint, time to go.”

Clint hustles Corey off the ground into his arms and buries his face in the toddler’s neck. “Munchkin, be nice to the cranky billionaire and his pushover husband. Gotta go save your aunt Tasha, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

Phil leans in for a nuzzle of his own, and at last succeeds in pulling Clint away.

“You’ll be fine,” Clint calls from the door. “Just fine!”

**

“Said we’d be _fine,_ Steve.”

Steve’s voice floats from the kitchen. “And look, here I am. Fine.”

“Well, I’m not. Why the hell did we—” Tony takes a stuffed reindeer to the face. “Hey!”

“Yangwage!” in a shrill tone.

Steve appears holding a colorful bowl and plastic spoon. “Yeah, language. Ought to be ashamed of yourself. Corey—”

“Wanna dohdut!”

Steve looks down at the soup. “It’s… kind of like a doughnut.”

A lot of screaming follows, during which Tony wrestles a particularly agile gremlin down onto the couch. “Need the suit for this,” he grunts, avoiding an elbow. “Okay, okay! Calm the ffff—iretruck down, you little parasite, it’s only been a day— _oh,_ that is not right, you keep those fangs in your mouth!”

Steve leaves the room in a hurry and comes back with two big coats and one tiny one. “Come on.”

Limbs wrapped around a squirming body, Tony gapes. “You’re going to cater to this?”

“It’s the holidays, I really am.” Steve gestures, his face set in a very strange way, and right then, Corey’s body collapses into desperately hitching sniffles.

Tony hears a single hiccupped _Daddy_.

“Oh god, come _on._ ” He’s off the couch, toddler under one arm, and halfway into his jacket while Steve fits tiny arms into the smaller version. “Boy misses his daddies.”

**

Corey slaps mittened hands down atop Tony’s head. “Wanna dohdut!”

“Well, I want seven dohduts, pipsqueak. Where’s your hat at?”

“Omy headed.”

“One, two, three, hands on the hat,” Steve says and five hands (minus the one Tony has locked around Corey’s ankle) clap to three woolen pompom hats. Corey leans over and pats Steve’s head like he’s stroking a cat.

“Straighten up there, half pint,” Tony warns, hitching his shoulders. Corey curls over his head instead, fitting his hands under Tony’s jaw. Tony feels Steve adjust Corey’s coat.

The doughnut shop is wreathed in Christmas lights and there is already a line. ‘Sleigh Ride’ pipes merrily from the open doorway. Behind the counter, the owner waves.

**

The fire’s low when Tony wakes and finds Clint bent over him, Phil and Natasha smiling tiredly behind. At his side, Steve breathes easily in sleep and Corey wiggles down further between them with a sigh. 

It’s 11:54. “Hey, you made it.”

Clint kisses his son, and Phil’s smile widens. “No way we were missing Christmas.”

~fin~


End file.
